


GERTInception

by involuntaryorange



Category: Cabin Pressure, Inception (2010)
Genre: Crack, Drabble, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 18:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3391574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/involuntaryorange/pseuds/involuntaryorange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saito hires a small charter air dot headquartered in Fitton to fly a mourning Robert Fischer from Sydney to Los Angeles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	GERTInception

**Author's Note:**

> SO. I posted [a thing about Gonzo and Eames](http://involuntaryorange.tumblr.com/post/111385735550/a-tip-for-inception-fic-writers) on Tumblr, and then in the comments for [Chapter 18](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3349583/chapters/7418078) of [earlgreytea68](http://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/pseuds/earlgreytea68)'s amazing fic [Next Big Thing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3349583/chapters/7328477), [Cricketcat9](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Cricketcat9/pseuds/Cricketcat9) mentioned it, then [pureimaginatrix](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pureimaginatrix/pseuds/pureimaginatrix) said that Gonzo/Eames's lemon shirt reminded her of Cabin Pressure, and then I was like "OMG what if Inception Arthur met Cabin Pressure Arthur," and then [addiemay](http://archiveofourown.org/users/addiemay/pseuds/addiemay) was like "yes please" and THEN this happened.
> 
> These are only a few snippets; maybe at some point I'll add more, but I hope other people contribute as well!

Carolyn walks into the portacabin with an unexpected spring in her step. “Good morning, drivers!”

“You seem awfully cheery this morning,” Douglas remarks. “Was Gordon eaten by a wallaby?”

“One can only hope.” Carolyn waves her hand in the air. “No, I am in a good mood because a man is paying us a tremendous amount of money.”

Douglas looks intrigued. “Is he now? Out of the kindness of his heart?”

“Out of his wallet, I would imagine. He wants us to fly a small group of people from Sydney to Los Angeles. _And_ one of the passengers is also paying us for his ticket, and for the small matter of transporting a coffin, so technically we’ll be paid _twice_!”

Martin chooses this moment to pipe up. “Carolyn, that— that doesn’t sound legal.”

“Not strictly legal, no.” Carolyn nods in concession. “But it’s amazing what a difference the number of zeroes after the one on a check can make. MJN Air will be set for decades — or until Martin flies into another goose.”

“The _goose_ flew into _us_!”

“So what you are saying, Martin, is that you were out-flown _by a goose_.”

Douglas breaks in before Martin can respond. “And will there be a dead body inside this coffin?”

“No, he’s using it in lieu of a suitcase. Of course there will be a dead body inside the coffin.”

“Something smells fishy here,” Martin complains.

“That’s probably just Arthur preparing the Admiral’s Pie.”

“Stop changing the subject, Carolyn! I _demand_ that you tell me what’s going on.”

“Mum!” Arthur bursts into the office. “Did you tell them about the dream people yet?”

“I was just getting to it, dear heart.”

“Dream people?” Douglas asks. “Oh, Carolyn, tell me you’re not making up clients now, like Arthur Milliner over there.”

Carolyn makes an indignant face. “No, I am not making up clients. Mr. Saito is decidedly real, as are the men and women in his employ. Some of them are meeting us here in an hour to discuss the plan.”

***

An hour later, four men show up. There’s a squinty man named Cobb, who appears to be the leader of the team; Eames, a fellow Englishman with a crooked smile and a practiced glibness; Saito, who lurks silently in the background smoldering at things; and Arthur, whose trouser creases are almost as sharp as his manner. This last one is the matter of some discussion.

“No, you see, _your_ name is Arthur, and _my_ name is Arthur! We’re both Arthur!”

“…Yes.”

“We need a way to tell us apart! So if I say ‘Arthur’ you know I’m talking to you and not me. Well, obviously I wouldn’t be talking to _myself_ , Mum said I can only do that when there aren’t any passengers around. What’s your last name? My last name is Shappey, so I could be Arthur S.”

Arthur — the non-chipper one — glares. “How about you’re Arthur S, and I’m just Arthur.”

“But then you don’t get to have a fun nickname! I know! How about you’re Suit Arthur, and I’m Hat Arthur?”

“That’s a brilliant idea, Hat Arthur,” Eames says, beaming. “And I’m sure Suit Arthur agrees.”

Suit Arthur’s expression suggests that he does _not_ agree, but before he can protest, Cobb interrupts. “Can we get on with this? Suit Arthur, tell Hat Arthur what he needs to do.”

***

“So all you need to do,” Suit Arthur explains, “is push the button on the PASIV, wait until _exactly_ thirty seconds before ten hours are up, put the headphones on Yusuf, and hit the play button. Got that?”

“Sure!” Hat Arthur chirps. “Push the button, wait… thirty seconds?”

“ _No._ Wait nine hours, 59 minutes, and thirty seconds.”

“Righto! Wait nine hours, fifty…”

“Nine.”

“Nine hours, fifty nine seconds—“

“MINUTES.”

“Fifty-nine minutes, and…”

“THIRTY SECONDS!”

“And thirty seconds!” Hat Arthur says proudly. “And then press the button!”

Suit Arthur doesn’t say anything — just stands up and walks out the door, closing it gently behind him. A few seconds later, an ear-shattering scream tears through the air, muffled only slightly by the office’s hollow plywood door.

Eames smiles reassuringly. “I’ll just go calm him down, shall I?”

***

Fifteen minutes later Eames returns with Suit Arthur in tow, both of them looking slightly rumpled and flushed.

“Were you guys wrestling?” Hat Arthur asks brightly.

“Yes, Hat Arthur,” Douglas says. “They were _wrestling_.”

“Enough!” Carolyn sighs. “Suit Arthur, fret not, Idiot Features over there will have _nothing_ to do with this whole plan. I will be executing the necessary procedures, and he will come along solely to bring coffee to our pilots.”

“And to you guys!”

“No, Hat Arthur, you will not set foot in the cabin.”

“Can I do the safety demonstration with my _Oh-strall-yun Ex-sent_?”

“Please do,” Eames says.

“Please don’t,” adds Saito.

***

“All right, boys,” Carolyn says, entering the flight deck, “Let’s do the briefing. We will be flying seven unconscious passengers and one deceased one from Sydney to Los Angeles, estimated flight time of approximately twelve hours and 45 minutes, though from what I understand it will be considerably longer for our passengers. I shall be attending to the needs of our passengers, such as they are. _You_ shall get us to Los Angeles and keep Hat Arthur from destroying everything. Understood?”

“Yes,” Martin and Douglas chime. Carolyn stalks out of the deck to prepare the cabin.

Douglas turns to Martin. “Well! Shall we play a round of Brians of Britain? I’ve been studying IMDb and convincing my celebrity friends to change their names to Brian. Cate Blanchett was reluctant at first, but eventually I won her over.”

“Douglas!” Martin hisses. “We need to _focus_ on the _crime_!”

“Martin, _you_ are not involved in the ‘crime,’ as you so subtly put it, and for once, neither am I. All we need to do is fly the plane straight.”

“And keep Hat Arthur from interfering.”

“Yes, but I’ve already taken care of that.”

“Have you?”

“Yes. I told Hat Arthur that I dropped a contact lens in the galley. He’s looking for it right now.”

“But, Douglas, you don’t wear glasses.”

“True, but _Hat Arthur_ doesn’t know that.”

***

“We’ll be landing in Los Angeles in about twenty minutes. Do you need immigration forms?”

Cobb looks disoriented and tragically relieved, as though a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders. After a moment of silent contemplation, he nods.

“Wow! What a dramatic pause!” Hat Arthur says.


End file.
